He filled and lighted his pipe, smoking placidly as he leaned against the slender column, his gaze shifting to a clump of dense shrubbery that skirted the trail within twenty feet of the cabin. He sat quiet, his long legs stretched out to enjoy the warmth of the sun that struck a corner of the porch floor. His pipe spluttered in depletion and he raised himself and looked around for his pony, observing that the animal was contentedly browsing the tops of some weeds at the edge of the porch. Then, resigning himself to the sensation of languor that oppressed him, he knocked the ash from the pipe, filled it again, lighted it, and resumed his former reclining position. During the past few days he had given much thought to Dunlavey. He was thinking of the man now, as his gaze went again to the clump of shrubbery that skirted the trail. Some men's mental processes were incomprehensible. Dunlavey was one of these men. What did the man hope to gain by defying the law? Would there not be profit enough in the cattle business when conducted honestly? He felt a certain contempt for the man, but mingled with it was a sort of grim pity. No doubt Dunlavey felt justified in his actions, for he had lived here a good many years, no doubt suffering the privations encountered by all pioneers; living a hard life, dealing heavy blows to his enemies, and receiving some himself. No doubt his philosophy of life had been of the peculiar sort practiced by the feudal barons of the Old World, before civilization had come, carrying its banner of justice, which, summed up epigrammatically, though ironically, had been "Might is Right." But might could never be right in this country. Dunlavey must learn this lesson; he could not hope to--! Hollis sat suddenly erect, putting aside his pipe and his ruminations at the same instant, the languor gone from him, his eyes narrowing coldly. For suddenly, from behind the shrubbery that skirted the edge of the trail, had appeared the man about whom he had been thinking! It was evident that he had not come upon Hollis unexpectedly. He reined in his pony and sat motionless in the saddle, his face white, his eyes alight with passion. For an instant neither man spoke. Hollis realized that the great moment for which he had waited many days had arrived. And it had arrived unexpectedly. It had arrived to find him tired after his activities of the night and in no condition for a fight. He drew a deep breath and got to his feet, a grim smile on his face. He stepped off the porch and stood by one of the columns, watching Dunlavey closely. As he watched the grim smile on his face slowly faded, his lips curled bitterly, his eyes chilled. "I suppose you've come to collect that thrashing?" he said. Dunlavey dismounted quickly, his right hand flew to his holster, drawing his revolver. He came toward Hollis crouching, a cold, merciless glitter in his eyes. "Yes, you tenderfoot ---- ----." he snarled.